


Those Memories, Our Memories

by angeljinki



Category: Day6 (Band), K-pop, K.A.R.D (Band), The Rose (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Band Fic, Best Friends, Developing Friendships, Gen, Male Friendship, the rose aka the power of friendship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-01
Updated: 2018-06-24
Packaged: 2019-04-06 20:21:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 8,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14064819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angeljinki/pseuds/angeljinki
Summary: In all his four years of high school, Woosung never really found a place where he fit in.But sometimes, all you need is detention, a competition, and music to help you find that.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a Tumblr post on ttherose! 
> 
> Link to the post: https://ttherose.tumblr.com/post/170786747262/why-does-this-look-so-much-like-some-cheesy-90s
> 
> Also here’s a direct link to their Tumblr: https://ttherose.tumblr.com/
> 
> PS: The Rose invented friendship, and that’s just the true tea.

He thinks that maybe, just maybe, high school’s overrated.

Lunch is the place where you congregate with your friends, your clique, your niche. Woosung’s eyes scan over the bustling room, from the bright windows to the dark corners. There are — what he calls — the stoners, clearly shying away from the light in their selected crannies; the popular kids, who were the loudest ones in the cafeteria; the "nerds," who aren't _really_ nerds in his eyes, chattering about the newest game or studying; the outcasts are scattered around at random tables, and even they have a place they belong.

But Woosung? He's the three-hundred-and-one puzzle piece in a box of three-hundred. To be fair, it's not as if he's purposely excluded. Everyone knows him; not in the popular sense, but if someone passed him in the hallway and didn't remember his name, they'd at least know him as that "nice senior from class."

He's nice, but that's it.

That's it.

Just nice.

He gets along with everyone but fits in with no one. It’s been that way for the past three years, and it seems that fate will continue during his senior year too. Sighing, he strolls over to his usual spot with Jae’s friends. The group greets him, friendly as always, and return to discussions about how their first day of school was turning out to be.

"Counseling put me into Mr. Park's Music Composition again! Right after I specifically requested to not be in there. That class is hell." He hears Brian — or was it Younghyun? He doesn't know what to call him; too many people call him different things — whine, head thunking against the table.  

He feels Jae shrug next to him. "Listen. As long as I pass his class, he's an angel to me. I ain't trying to mess up my chances of graduating after 'The Sophomore Fiasco,'" he adds with exaggerated quotation mark gestures. The rest of the table laughs.

Sungjin lifts a spork, flinging mashed potatoes onto Wonpil and earning the attention of everyone else. "Oh guys, did you hear about the Battle of the Bands competition this year? Flyers are already being plastered all over the school." He grins at Wonpil's whine of disgust. "We should do it."

The table nods, sans Woosung.

Jae bumps against his shoulder, which finally lifts his head away from his food tray. "Hey man, you going to do it? You should. You'd have a good chance at winning."

Woosung breathes out an awkward laugh. "Don't I need a band to do that?"

"Singers who play an instrument can join too. You can be alone." Dowoon interjects.

He shrugs. "I'll think about it," already shoving it in the back of his mind.

 

♫♫♫

 

The chemistry lab is filled with chatter and the occasional screech of a desk as he enters. Everything is as per usual until he spots a new face in the back of the classroom. A lone boy with a worn leather jacket sits at a table near the windows, seemingly bored with his cheek leaning on a fist.

 _Must be new,_ Woosung thinks.

He goes to one of the front tables, closest to the whiteboard, and waits for the teacher to walk in.

 

♫♫♫

 

A week after the first day, Woosung wishes he were brave enough to walk out while a teacher's talking.

"Woosung, mind telling me why you're the only one whose test I don't have?"

"I handed it in. I remember giving it to you."

"Well, as you can see," She gestures to her stack of papers, "your test isn't here, so you must've remembered wrong."

"But I really did hand it in! I was one of the first to turn it in, too. You might've lost it."

"Are you talking back, Woosung?" A soft "Ooo" sweeps through the room. He winces internally.

"No, I'm just saying. I really did hand it in though. I didn't bring it home."

"Listen, sir, let's stop this discussion. You're disrupting the class. You can retake the test for seventy-five percent credit after school."

"But I took the test!"

"That's enough. Detention. Prepare to stay after tomorrow too, Woosung." That shuts him up quickly. A couple of students behind him whisper to each other. A week after school started, and this happens? What a lovely way to kick off senior year.

 

♫♫♫

 

Woosung dreads the ring of the bell during last period. He groans right as the sound echoes through the school, a blessing to others, an omen to him.

On his way to detention, he meets another friend of his: Matthew, with his friend Jiwoo walking beside him.

Matthew perks up upon seeing him. ”Hey! Jiwoo and I were just talking about you. The gang and I are going to see a movie right now. Want to come?”

”Oh, sorry man. I’d love to, but I got detention today.”

Jiwoo snorts. ”You? Detention? I can’t see the correlation.” Matthew sounds his agreement.

”Thanks,” Woosung laughs, ”but sadly it’s true. Hey, I have to go. Can’t have whoever’s on detention duty flipping out on me, right? Thanks for inviting me though! Sorry I can’t go!” He rushes out, breezing past the pair as he speeds to detention, faint goodbyes thrown his way behind him.

To be honest with himself, he wouldn’t have said yes even if he was free after school. It was a sweet gesture to include him, but Woosung would feel left out if he’d gone. He gets along with Matthew and his friends as well as with anyone else. There’s just no spark, nothing that makes him feel like he can connect with everyone in the group. It’s not their fault; that’s how it is for everyone he talks to.

Maybe there’s something wrong with him.

He stops right before the classroom door. Closing his eyes, he inhales, then exhales, and repeats. It’s his first time serving, but it can’t be too bad, right?

Opening the door, he softly greets the teacher manning detention for the day, then promptly races for an empty seat. Once he’s settled, he glances around the room as discreetly as he can pull off.

It’s a standard setting, like any other classroom in the whole school. It’s deafeningly quiet, however; Woosung's ears feel like they're suffocating. There are some people scattered in different seats, sleeping or doing homework. To his right, he sees the new kid wearing the same bored expression from chemistry; his cheek squished against his fist. Another boy, sitting a couple of seats in front, hunches over a book, the flipping of pages being the only sound he makes. If Woosung remembers correctly as he walked in, he saw Jaehyeong — a junior that’s in a couple of his classes; Woosung rarely sees him though, as he either skips or sits all the way in the back — sits with his arms crossed, staring into space.

He looks at the clock. Two-forty. A sigh escapes him; it’s going to be a long afternoon.

 

♫♫♫

 

Once you fall into a routine, school becomes unceasingly dull. Eat breakfast, walk to school, go to class, go to lunch, go back to class, then go home. Rinse and repeat. Every single day, without fail, his days play out that way, like a broken record. Woosung feels himself going insane. Three years of this is enough; he doesn’t think he can handle one more.

Today doesn’t prove to be any different than the others. That is until Woosung gets to chemistry.

”Alright, so for this week’s lab, I’m going to assign partners,” A collective groan washes over the room. The teacher laughs, then lists out the pairs. Woosung tunes out until he hears his name said with an unfamiliar one. ”...and lastly, Woosung and Dojoon.”

He straightens up, looking behind him to try to match a face to the name. The new kid waves awkwardly to catch his attention. So that’s his name.

”Uh hey, looking forward to working with you,” Woosung says, wishing he hadn’t. This is school, not a new job.

Dojoon nods, a stiff smile plastered on his face. ”Thanks, you too.”

They share a pregnant pause, switching quickly to stare at the front of the room. Papers are passed out, and Woosung scans over the worksheet, ready to start the lab. Dojoon is easy enough to work with. He’s pleasant and seems to know what he’s doing.

Next class turns out the same way, and the next, and the one after that. They continue as before, not talking to each other until one of them needs clarification on a step or to discuss an observation. Dojoon is one of the better lab partners he’s had; he has to admit.

Dojoon’s in the middle of pouring a solution into a beaker when Woosung decides to start a conversation that’s probably been long past overdue by now.

”So, how do you like our school so far?”

Momentarily looking up, Dojoon shrugs. ”About the same as any other high school, I think. It’s fine.” Dojoon hands the beaker to him, turning to put on the Bunsen burner.

”Cool, cool,” Woosung nods, feeling unbelievably awkward. ”You like music?” He suddenly says. He cringes, but it’s the best he’s got to spice things up right now. He hates mindless conversation.

That earns Woosung a cheeky grin, the first he’s ever seen Dojoon make since the school year started. ”Who doesn’t?”

He chuckles. ”A lot of people, actually. You’d be surprised.” Dojoon makes an exaggerated offended expression, hand over heart and all. ”I know, I know; it’s truly a crime. Do you have any favorite artists?”

”Oh! Jason Mraz, by far!” Woosung’s a little amazed. He’s only seen Dojoon looking bored to the world. He didn’t expect him to be so expressive. ”Hey, do you play any instruments?” Dojoon asks.

”Me? Yeah, you could say that. I play the electric guitar, and I sing too if you want to count that. Do you?”

Dojoon nods eagerly. ”Hell yeah! I play the keyboard and acoustic guitar. I sing a little too. We can be singing buddies.” He snickers, nudging Woosung with his elbow.

Woosung laughs freely, pushing back against Dojoon. ”Whatever you say, man. Come on, let’s finish up this lab.”

They talk for the rest of the period, diverging from music to what their hometowns are like, how they both speak Korean — albeit, according to him, Dojoon’s standard Korean isn't the best — and anything else that flows its way into the conversation.

The bell rings, signaling them to pack up quickly and leave for the next class. The two split ways, saying goodbye.

Woosung feels a little disappointed to leave a class for the first time in his high school career. He walks to his next class with a spring in his step and light feeling resonating within his chest.

 

♫♫♫

 

When it’s time for lunch, Woosung doesn’t feel like going. He’s not that hungry nor does he want to be in a loud room full of sweaty teenagers at the moment. He decides to wander around the school, making his way towards the stairwell. His feet lead the way with his brain in the back, thoughts elsewhere.

He stops right before the roof entrance.

 _Huh,_ he thinks. He didn’t even know there was a door for this.

It’s probably locked, but he’s bored, and it wouldn’t hurt to try. He pushes against it, surprised when it opens with ease. He peeks his head through, almost expecting something to jump out at him, screaming ”DETENTION!”

The voice is _coincidentally_ similar to a particular teacher he may know in real life.

He doesn’t notice anything at first, so he enters, one hand on the door in case it automatically locks when shut.

”Uh, hi.”

Woosung jumps, hand leaving the door, closing it shut. ”SHIT!” He whirls around to the culprit.

It’s the boy from detention, the one with the book. ”Oh, it’s you,” he breathes out a sigh of relief, ”Hi! Nice to meet you!”

”...Hi.”

”Um, sorry! Did I, uh, scare you?” The boy raises an eyebrow. Woosung continues to smile. ”Right! Sorry to bother you, but I was just wandering around and discovered that the roof door opened. Well, not discover, since you’re here first, but you know what I mean.”

The boy just stares at him. Maybe it’s best if he stops talking.

”Can I, um, join you? I’ll let you read in peace; I just need a place to chill. The cafeteria’s a little too loud today.” He rubs his arm subconsciously.

”Go ahead. I don’t care.” The boy goes back to reading.

Woosung sits near him, leaning against the fence that lines the perimeter of the roof. ”What’re you reading?”

”Music theory.”

”Whoa, sweet. You like music?”

”Who doesn't?” A flip of a page. Woosung has a flashback to Dojoon; he grins.

”Haha, true. That’s cool though; do you just like reading about music? What do you listen to? Do you play?”

”Drums.” Another page flips. ”...and I like Taeyeon.”

Woosung chortles at the muted admission. ”That’s cute, man. She’s great!”

He nods. Woosung notices the tip of the boy’s ears become faintly pink. Aw.

After a long silence, he speaks up again. ”My name’s Woosung, by the way.”

”Hajoon.”

 

♫♫♫

 

”You should be fine by tomorrow, but sit out in the bleachers for the rest of class okay? I’ll still give you credit for today.” The gym coach pats his shoulder reassuringly, smiling to try to placate him.

Woosung limps over to the metal stands, his leg dragging behind him. He hisses as he presses the bag of ice against his ankle.

The rest of the class continues to run, or walk depending on who you’re looking at, around the track field. The wind blows an unusually cold breeze his way; chills run down his spine.

He jolts when the bleachers near him creak. Jaehyeong gingerly sits in the same row, seemingly ignoring his existence. A couple of minutes pass by, and Woosung’s already itching to say something. His foot starts jittering, rocking the rusty metal back and forth. Jaehyeong slightly fidgets next to him.

Eventually, the tension becomes so thick in his mind that Woosung just about attempts to shatter it with an ice pick.

He leans back, assuming a position that he would deem ”cool.” Jaehyeong looks like the type who’d only speak to those who he feels are on his level. Maybe Woosung can’t reach him on the handsome aspect, but he’ll make do with other areas.

Since it worked so well the past two times, maybe luck’s still hanging over him.

”Do you like music?”

Jaehyeong shoots him an incredulous look, all wide eyes, and furrowed eyebrows. He deciphers the expression as something akin to "Are you actually talking to me?" On second thought, Woosung might regret speaking at all.

The delinquent finally shrugs in reply, the leather jacket slung over his shoulders crinkles from the movement. They lapse back into silence.

Woosung feels a little sorry for bothering him now. And maybe a little bit scared.

What if he offended Jaehyeong? He could suddenly find himself being threatened, or worse. One day, he's calmly walking through the crowded hallways and the next thing he knows, Jaehyeong shoves him against a locker, demanding an apology.

He knows stuff like that doesn't actually happen anymore, or it really only happened in cliche high school dramas, but he's heard a couple of rumors surrounding the brunette sitting beside him. Sure, Woosung's got a year over him, but he's not too sure that Jaehyeong would really care about that. More importantly, Jaehyeong has the height, and that is more intimidating than any number.

Woosung is just about to spiral into a black hole of despair and apologize for everything including breathing when the coach calls for the class to start heading inside. Jaehyeong promptly stands up and steps down from the bleachers.

He abruptly stops, swiveling his torso to face Woosung. He speaks so quietly that Woosung almost misses what he says.

"Well, I guess I like music a little. I play the bass sometimes."

With Woosung's jaw a little slack, Jaehyeong takes that as his cue to turn back and leave him in the dust.


	2. Chapter 2

After the "Jaehyeong Incident," Woosung finds himself back on the roof with Hajoon. This time, he brings lunch with him.

They sit in relative silence as he eats while Hajoon reads — currently a realistic fiction about a girl who plays the violin, but finds out she will go deaf soon.

Woosung continues to skip the cafeteria in favor of Hajoon's company until he stops going to lunch altogether. Jae and the others tease him about ditching them, but he takes it in stride with a pleased grin.

As much as he enjoys the company of those five, he has to admit the atmosphere of the roof with Hajoon is a hundred times better. With it being the hazy lull between summer and fall, the heat simmered down to a comfortable wave. The sun shines brightly almost every day, but the shade of passing clouds and small gusts of wind keep him cooly refreshed. All that usually can be heard is the rustling of trees blending with the crinkling of worn pages.

He makes a loud crunch as his teeth sink into his apple. Chewing, he thinks about his newfound friends — well, two out of three. Jaehyeong still confuses him.

His eyes trail over to where Hajoon is reading and wonders how’d he interact with Dojoon. Hajoon’s quiet, but he carries a conversation just fine. So far, he seems like a sweet dude. Dojoon’s, well, _Dojoon_. He’s hilarious and a fun guy to hang with. And what if he added Jaehyeong to the mix? Woosung knows nothing about the junior, but something in his gut tells him that if he can just whittle down that brick wall, the brunette will fit perfectly.

After all, they all love music, right?

”Hey, dude.”

Eyes flick up from the book it was buried in. Happiness bubbles underneath Woosung’s chest.

”How do you feel about me inviting a couple more people up here?”

 

♫♫♫

 

The bell blares loud and clear, sending students to shuffle frantically around the classroom to rush to their next period, loud chattering starting to pick up again. Dojoon is halfway out the chemistry lab door before Woosung grabs the elbow of his jacket.

”Wha- Ow!” The tall boy stumbles back almost comically, yelp carrying over the roaring occurring in the hallway.

”Sorry!” Woosung exclaims. ”Just needed to ask you something before you go. If you got nowhere else to be during lunch, want to join us on the roof?”

”Who’s ’us,’” Dojoon asks, skeptic tone ruined by the grin forming on his face.

”Junior kid! His name’s Hajoon. You might remember him from detention, like a week after school started? Real quiet; reads a lot.”

He scratches his chin absentmindedly. ”I think...so. It’s whatever though, even if I don’t remember the guy exactly now, I’ll definitely remember him after I woo him into being my best friend!” Dojoon’s grin turns radiant, and Woosung can’t help but return the sentiment.

”Hell yeah. Well, we should get to class before we get crucified by our teachers. See you later, man.” They exchange a fist bump, separating to hopefully reach their class in time before passing is over.

 

♫♫♫

 

When the teacher ends class early, Woosung immediately pulls a chair up to Jaehyeong's desk. The delinquent eyes him curiously, but remains silent.

"Hey! How come I've never seen you in this class before?" Woosung crosses his arms over Jaehyeong's desk, resting his chin on the soft fabric of his sweater, looking up at the boy.

Jaehyeong visibly stiffens; he shrugs.

Woosung refuses to let the dismissive gesture deflate him just yet. He bulldozes on. "Where do you usually eat at lunch? I don't remember seeing you at any of the tables in the cafeteria."

It takes a couple of seconds, but he answers with a curt "I eat outside."

"Really?" Woosung sits up. "My friends and I eat on the roof. Maybe you'd like to join us? I mean, not exactly like the great outdoors, but we're still technically outside."

Jaehyeong finally turns to directly acknowledge him. He wears the same expression from the bleachers when Woosung first spoke to him. Fleetingly, Woosung wonders if he's interpreting the look wrong.

"Is that even allowed?" Jaehyeong asks.

This time, it’s Woosung‘s turn to shrug. "Maybe, maybe not. I never really bothered to ask Hajoon. I've been up there for a while with him, and I'm guessing he's been there way longer before I came, so either it's allowed or we just haven't been caught yet."

The other nods, absorbing all the information.

"Didn't peg you for the type who follows the rules, Mr. I-skip-classes-and-sit-out-during-gym," Woosung smiles coyly.

Jaehyeong briefly scowls, causing Woosung to burst out laughing.

"So, is that a yes? Will you join us?"

"Feels like you're recruiting me to a cult," he says, only making Woosung laugh harder.

“Whatever floats your boat, man. See you up there, yeah?"

 

♫♫♫

 

Lunch starts out with a bang, or in other words, Dojoon slamming the door open.

“I’M HERE.”

Hajoon jumps, throwing his book against the fence lining the roof. He clutches his chest, breathing heavily; he sets sharp eyes on Dojoon, silently glaring.

Woosung covers his mouth to smother the snickers that threaten to spill. ”Glad you could make it,” he says when he sobers up.

Dojoon throws a cheeky smile as a greeting, settling down on the concrete near Hajoon. The bookworm noticeably scoots away a couple of centimeters.

Seeing the disparity between the two, Woosung figures it’s going to take some work for Hajoon to warm up to Dojoon.

”You already heard his name, but Hajoon, this is Dojoon! He’s new here and is a senior like me.” Said boy waves cheerfully at Hajoon. ”And Dojoon, this is Hajoon.” Despite being wary, Hajoon gives him a slight nod.

”Play nice!”

That earns a giggle from Dojoon and a huff of a laugh from Hajoon. Woosung’s chest gets that warm feeling again. He wonders why he’s been feeling it so often nowadays.

 

* * *

 

Dojoon does most of the talking afterward. Hajoon keeps quiet as usual, only speaking when Dojoon asks him something, but it’s clear he’s paying rapt attention to the other boy’s chattering. He hasn’t picked up his book once, merely letting it sit in his lap.

Woosung sits back against the fence. He’s content with just watching the two interact, hoping this blossoms into a complimenting dynamic.

He continues to eye the door as they talk. He swears he can hear a shift in the door or a slight clank of metal now and then.

He might just be imagining things.

The bell eventually rings. Woosung gets up with a sigh. Hajoon blinks at him before asking him if he’s okay. He nods, still looking at the door.

From the corner of his eye, Dojoon and Hajoon exchange looks.

 

♫♫♫

 

Over the course of several weeks, the roof becomes the trio’s meeting spot. Dojoon acts out whatever crazy antics he can think of to make the other two laugh.

Woosung cackles at pretty much everything he does, but Hajoon is a tougher egg to crack.

The first time Dojoon manages to make Hajoon laugh — as in a _real_ laugh — the sun feels ten times brighter. Hajoon’s laugh is high pitched, almost nasal. It comes out even; every sound is just like the last.

Woosung dubs it the ”Spongebob laugh,” which makes all of them burst into laughter like a bunch of hyenas. They’re all on the floor wheezing until they hear someone yell from the ground below. They stifle their giggling into their sleeves to avoid being caught, barely managing to keep themselves on the down low.

 

* * *

 

 

Woosung daydreams during English; he stares at the clock as if willing the device with his mind will make the hands tick by faster.

For a split second, he thinks of his friends, specifically the moment when Hajoon moved away from Dojoon after he scared him. He nibbles on his lip anxiously.

What if they only talked during lunch because of his presence? Maybe they didn’t get along as well he thought, and he was forcing them to eat on the roof. Woosung worries himself in circles, thinking of how the two might be fighting in the confines of his mind.

Class ends before he realizes it; he speedwalks his way out of there. He’s only going to the gym for his next class, but he rushes with fervor. He knows his path crosses Hajoon’s, so if he goes fast enough, he might make it in time to somehow fix whatever might be going on between the two.

He’s just about running when his feet immediately stop in its tracks, his sneakers squeaking against the polished floors.

Dojoon and Hajoon are chatting next to a couple of lockers, both of them smiling happily, no bad blood seemingly running between them. Woosung lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding.

Judging by what he sees so far, he figures he won’t have to worry too much anymore.

 

* * *

 

”We should start calling ourselves the Three Musketeers,” Dojoon blurts out one afternoon. They’re sitting on a bench in front of the school, waiting for their buses to arrive. Woosung walks to school, but he stays back for the two to get on their buses before going home now that he has a reason to linger around for a little longer.

Hajoon pushes against his leather jacket, rolling his eyes. They start bickering over the name while Woosung slowly drifts into his thoughts. The number three doesn’t quite fit them. His eyes land on a black jacket among the sea of students that pour over the parking lot, following the back of it until it hops into the back of a car and drives away.

He hasn’t seen Jaehyeong in awhile. The boy’s been avoiding him lately, or at least it seems like he is. He never sees him in the hallway, and during the two classes they have together, Jaehyeong’s skipping again or sits on the other side of the room like Woosung carries the black plague.

He’s brought back to earth with a jolt when the two next to him call his attention.

”Huh?”

”We were asking you if you agree with the name, Woosung! Were you spacing out? Come home, E.T.” Dojoon pokes the temple of his forehead, wiggling the offending appendage.

Hajoon snorts. ”You used the reference wrong, idiot. Anyway, Woosung, who do you agree with? Dojoon says yes to the Three Musketeers; I say no.”

”Come on, Hajoon! It’s genius, and you know it.”

”We’ll see what he thinks.”

Woosung pretends to think hard on it, pulling the classic ”The Thinker” pose, before saying, ”I think Hajoon’s on the right track here.”

Hajoon makes a triumphant noise while Dojoon pouts.

”Whatever, you guys wouldn't know genius even if it smacked you in the face!” He grumbles, crossing his arms.

They both laugh, high-fiving in front of him.

 

* * *

 

Woosung drives the key into the front door, unlocking it. The two peer through the entrance as if expecting to step on a bomb hidden underneath the floorboards, and the whole house going ”BOOM!”

Woosung rolls his eyes, pushing past the two good-naturedly. ”You guys act like you’re walking into a haunted house. Ready to face the undead? Who you going to call?” He chuckles at their wide eyes. ”Kidding, let’s go upstairs. My room’s right here.”

The moment Dojoon walks into his room, he immediately flops on his bed, rolling around and giggling like a child.

”Come on, man! I tried really hard to make it look nice this morning,” Woosung complains.

”It’s just us, anyway. Dojoon sleeps in a pig stye every night so he wouldn’t care how messy your room is.” Hajoon reaches past Woosung to turn on his TV, searching through his piles of games next to it.

In revenge, Woosung sits on Dojoon’s stomach. He cries out in mock pain, thrashing around while Woosung stays stubborn and tries to put as much weight on him. Hajoon ignores the chaos in favor of setting up Overwatch on the TV. The two behind him end up rolling off the bed, dragging him into the fight pile until they’re a pile of limbs kicking each other around.

They’re all breathing heavily on Woosung’s carpeted floor when Woosung says, ”We should start a band” as a joke, elbowing Hajoon who lays close to him.

He’s about to bring up something new at the lack of reaction from the boys until Dojoon suddenly yells, ”WAIT, YES.”

Woosung leans back up, staring at Dojoon in confusion.

”We should totally start a band!” He gets up, sitting crossed legged in front of Woosung and Hajoon, body thrumming with excited energy. ”It’s perfect! Woosung, you and I sing, so we already got that covered! And you play the drums, right Hajoon?” The boy nods quickly, interest piqued. ”I play two instruments so I can switch to either for whatever song we play, and Woosung plays the electric guitar! We basically got everything here! We should join the Battle of the Bands contest. I’ve seen the flyers everywhere; we would definitely win, absolute guarantee!” His chest puffs up with pride.

Woosung eyes light up, ideas already forming on places to practice, writing new songs, needed equipment, but then he realizes there’s one small problem: they don’t have a bassist.

”Guys, wait.”

Two pairs of eyes focus on him; Dojoon stops chattering.

”We need a bassist to start a band. You just play the guitar and keyboard, right?” Woosung asks Dojoon. He nods slowly, realizing the problem. ”We can’t start a band without a bassist. I mean, we could, but it wouldn’t sound all that great."

Dojoon’s shoulders droop. ”Damn it. You sure you don’t know anyone who plays it?”

”I have a couple of friends who do, but they’re already in bands for the contest.”

Running his hands through his hair roughly, Dojoon hunches over to brainstorm. Woosung leans back on his bed, thinking of people. Jaehyeong pops into his head immediately.

”There’s someone I know who plays it that’s free.” Dojoon perks up. ”But they might not want to do it. We’re not really friends either.”

”That’s fine! We can convince them somehow! I’ll work my magic if worse comes to worse,” Dojoon jokes, wiggling his eyebrows. ”Who is it? I have to know who my target is before I can do anything; make some background checks.”

”His name’s Jaehyeong. Junior, you probably don't know him. Uhh, you could say he’s a delinquent? Skips classes sometimes. Taller than all of us; kind of intimidating.”

”Oh, huh. That might be a little hard to work with, but I’ll try everything!”

Woosung scratches his head. ”Not sure that’s a good idea, dude. I think I’ve bothered him enough; I don’t want him to get even more annoyed when more people start bombarding him. He doesn’t seem to respond that well to people he doesn’t know talking—”

”I can talk to him,” Hajoon suddenly interrupts.

The two startle at Hajoon’s interjection. ”Really? You know him?” Dojoon asks, surprised.

”Yeah.”

”Seriously?” Woosung’s confusion is evident on his face. He’s never seen the two talk to each other, much less be in the same room as each other.

”Yup.”

”Wait, you’re serious? You can convince him to join us?”

”Uh-huh.”

Woosung’s not sure if the bookworm is being sarcastic or not, but he stays quiet. With that, Hajoon gets up to grab a controller near the TV, throwing two more controllers the boys’ way, promptly ignoring their confused stares.

 

♫♫♫

 

A couple of days after their weekend talk, Hajoon is the last one to arrive at the roof for the first time. He enters, one hand left on the door to keep it slightly open still.

”God, finally. I was starting to think you died and was telling Woosung my plans for how your funeral would play out.” Dojoon exclaims cheekily.

”Haha, very funny. Anyway,” Hajoon looks to Woosung, ”I brought someone new to join us.” He looks back through the door’s crack. ”You can come out now.”

Jaehyeong slowly steps out from behind the metal, not daring to look either boy on the ground in the eye.

Woosung’s jaw drops. ”Holy _shit._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, new chapter! Okay, updates might be a little sporadic just because school is so hectic right now. Too many tests and stress!! But I'll try my best to stay on top of this! 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!! See you all again soon!


	3. Chapter 3

Jaehyeong seems to be the sole reason why Woosung’s jaw is broken. He quickly shuts it after the delinquent cocks an eyebrow at him, followed by Dojoon’s muffled snickering.

The boys sit in a circle; Woosung between Hajoon and Dojoon, seated with a perfect view of Jaehyeong. He can’t decide whether to keep eye contact with the boy or not. Will he die if he does? He glances over to Hajoon, who has already launched into his daily playful banter with Dojoon, seemingly unharmed from bringing Jaehyeong to the roof. Woosung rocks back and forth, eyes darting around. He may or may not be a little scared to speak, but that’s neither here nor there. The two next to him are unfazed by the atmosphere radiating between him and Jaehyeong; he wonders how they’re so oblivious.

Jaehyeong clears his throat loudly. All heads turn to him. His eyes don’t quite land on anyone. ”So, you guys want to start a band, right?”

Dojoon elbows Woosung roughly. ”Oh! Right! Yeah, so Dojoon here,” he gestures over to him, ”suggested we compete in the Battle of the Bands coming up since we all can play a different instrument. Plus, we both can sing! We wanted you because you said you could play the bass, and now that you’re here we have a complete band! Uh, so I was thinking that we could start practicing soon? I write lyrics sometimes, so maybe we could look at them and figure something out? Maybe?” He laughs awkwardly, eyeing Jaehyeong. The brunette’s eyes droop slightly, head propped up on one arm. Woosung speeds up. ”Y-yeah, so I’m not the best at writing, but it’s a start, right? Anyway, this will be a fun experience even if we don’t win. I-I mean, at-least-I-think-so,” he trails off, mumbling the last few words, shrinking in on himself.

Jaehyeong, almost immediately noticing his sudden halt, turns back. He looks anxious for a split second, before quickly looking away again. ”I’m listening,” he whispers softly. Dojoon wraps an arm around his neck, shoving his knuckles into the top of the boy’s head. ”Ha! You’re kind of cute, aren't you?” Jaehyeong squirms in Dojoon’s relentless near chokehold, cheeks flushed a bright pink. Hajoon’s lips quirk up, his posture relaxing.

Woosung shines his thousand-watt grin, opening his mouth to continue his plans. He rattles off specific ideas he has for songs, and things he's written in the past. He doesn't want to use the old ones though because they're meant to be sung by a one-person show AKA just for him when he was still a loner. Woosung starts to get visibly excited, which rubs off on the others. Even Jaehyeong looks like he's hanging off his every word. Hajoon eventually interrupts him to ask when they're going to start practicing since everyone is on board now.

"We need a practice room first!" Dojoon says.

Woosung sucks his teeth. He forgot about that. "We can't practice at my house. My parents would kill me for the noise."

"Same," Hajoon sighs out.

"I live in an apartment, so like, that's a no from me." Dojoon rubs his chin before looking over to Jaehyeong sitting beside him. Before he can even open his mouth, Jaehyeong shoots out a frantic, "No!" Dojoon blinks at him in surprise. Hajoon starts laughing but quickly covers it up by morphing it into a coughing fit.

"Alright," Woosung says, wondering what Hajoon knows that he and Dojoon don't. "Well since we can't practice at our houses, we can ask the music teacher if we can use his room. Can you guys stay after school today so we can ask? It'd probably be better if we're all there, so it doesn't look like I'm trying to swindle him or something."

Everyone nods in agreement, right in time for the bell to ring and signal it's time for class.

Later, once the end of the day rolls in, the four meet up at the school entrance determined to get themselves a studio to practice. They visit the music teacher's classroom, where he sits behind his desk shuffling papers. Woosung dishes out their intentions, near begging for the room, but it doesn't work out, even with the others pitching in to help beg.

"I'm sorry boys, but I can't let anyone practice in here. School rules." The finality is evident in his voice.

The four leave, disappointment heavy on their shoulders. Jaehyeong pipes up over the moody atmosphere. "Maybe we should ask the other teachers. They could have connections." Dojoon just about strangles him from hugging.

They decide to split up into pairs. Dojoon immediately grabs Hajoon and drags him towards the stairs. Woosung can hear Hajoon's protests the entire journey to the second floor. Woosung shoots a wry smile to Jaehyeong. "Guess you're stuck with me then." The delinquent nods back, subtly gesturing to the first door on his left. The two start there and work their way down. Each time, they leave with drooping shoulders and pensive stares. They're at the last teacher on the first floor when they're hit with the same shake of a head they've seen from the past twenty teachers. Leaving, Woosung lets out a frustrated groan. Jaehyeong looks worried; an expression he's noticed flash on his face more and more now. He's not sure if he's used to it yet.

"Sorry," Jaehyeong whispers.

Woosung straightens his back. "Huh? It's fine! You didn't do anything wrong. If anything, I should be the one saying sorry. I dragged you around all afternoon without any progress." His heart sinks a bit; he feels a bit distressed about making the guy apologize.

"It's okay, I don't mind. This was fun anyway," Jaehyeong replies, looking away again, cheeks flushing slightly pink. Also, another quirk Woosung notices he does. He might have gotten the wrong impression the first time around. He's about to ask more about Jaehyeong's apparently hidden personality when Dojoon and Hajoon appear again from the second floor. Already, he can tell it didn't go so well judging from the dark cloud hanging over their heads.

“I fucking hate Mr. Park,” Dojoon spits out as his foot bangs against a locker. He slides to the floor, groaning. Hajoon roughly rubs his hand over his face. Jaehyeong's face morphs into one of his key expressions of nervousness, and Woosung's guilt feels like it's about to crash through the floor.

“I'm really sorry, guys. Let's just, uh, let's just go home and relax now okay? We can brainstorm more at home." He nods absently, chewing his bottom lip between his teeth. Everyone grunts in agreement and rambles towards the front doors. Woosung waves goodbye to the disappearing backs of his friends. Outside, he steps off the curb to start heading home when a hand gently grabs his shoulder. His heart skips a beat, but when he turns, he calms down seeing that it's only Jaehyeong.

"Oh hey, why didn't you go home yet?" 

He shrugs in response. "Just wanted to say something." Woosung gestures for him to go on. "It'll be okay. You'll figure something out. You seem capable enough, and we're not going anywhere, so don't worry." Jaehyeong's lips curve up, making his cheeks round and plump; it softens his features. He should smile more often, Woosung thinks.

“Thank you.” He scratches his head, looking down to avoid letting Jaehyeong see his cheeks start to flush. He kicks some asphalt further into the road. “Really; I appreciate it.”

The boy nods his head quickly, his smile spreading into a small grin. He steps back a couple of inches, still keeping eye contact with Woosung, before finally turning around and heading off on his way home.

Woosung’s eyes brim with mirth at the display. He continues to walk with a slight spring in his step.

 

♫♫♫

 

He clicks his pen, measured and steady. The teacher droned something about chemical bonds in the background, but his mind lingered elsewhere. All the teachers were crossed off the list to help them find a room to practice, and so were all of their homes. Where else could they go? Woosung didn’t have any connections. He never really got close enough to anyone to get those kinds of favors. He doubts the others have any, or else they’d mention it.

He clicks his pen faster.

“Woosung, will you stop that!” The teacher shouts.

He groans.

 

♫♫♫

 

The moment he walks onto the roof, he raises his eyebrows at three on the floor.

They all shake their heads no.

He sighs.

 

♫♫♫

 

“So, anything?” Jaehyeong asks.

“Hm?” Woosung pants. He’s only started running around the track for five minutes, and he’s already out of breath.

Jaehyeong keeps up with ease, running at Woosung’s pace. “About the practice room.”

He shakes his head. The teacher yells at the class to speed it up a little. Woosung tries, but ultimately fails and goes back to his previous pace. God, he hates Gym. In the corner of his eye, his friend isn’t even breaking a sweat.

“Hey,” Jaehyeong tilts his head over, “what’re your grades like?”

“They’re okay. Nothing under a B. Gym is probably my lowest grade as of now.” Woosung trips over a stray rock on the track. He almost tumbles before Jaehyeong frantically grabs onto his shirt, and pulls him back upright. Woosung steadies himself with a hand on his friend’s shoulder. Jaehyeong’s an _honors_ student. _Honors!_ He never would’ve expected that.

Woosung stares at Jaehyeong incredulously, into confused, innocent eyes, before his conscience catches up with him and smacks him across the head. It’s rather rude to be so surprised; Woosung just slapped a delinquent stereotype on Jaehyeong and called it a day, without even stepping back to ask himself whether he was making assumptions or not.

Jaehyeong chuckles and shakes his head at his friend. “Keep up, man, before coach rips both our heads off for slacking.” Woosung stumbles after him.

A couple of minutes before class ends, Woosung turns to his friend and apologizes.

“Huh? For what?”

“Nothing,” Woosung says, patting him on the shoulder. “Do you have any ideas about where we could practice? I know we already talked about this, but I’ve rung my brain dry at this point.”

The brunette squints his eyes, thinking hard. “Maybe...no…give me a second.” Woosung tries not to laugh.

The bell rings before Jaehyeong can come up with anything. As the two rush out of class, he grabs Woosung’s arm closer to him. “I’m not sure, sorry, but when I need ideas, I try to be around new surroundings? Like, go somewhere you haven’t been before to think, or something like that.” Then, he lets go and disappears into the crowd of teenagers.

 

* * *

 

It’s finally time to go home, meaning Woosung can curl up in his bed and ask himself why his luck is so low lately. He’s about to turn left and go his usual route home before he remembers Jaehyeong’s words. He decides to go right instead. Maybe his friend’s right; taking the scenic route might shake things up a bit in his head.

The houses are pretty standard, similar to what he’s already seen. No new ideas to be found looking at them. Woosung tries to look for people, but its the suburbs in the afternoon, so no one is really outside, save for a couple elderly people or the average car. He’s a bit frustrated again, starting to get lost in his own thoughts until his legs suddenly stop. He blinks out of his stupor to see he walked into a dead end. It’s just a bunch of greenery leading into the forest. He’s about to turn back when a little voice in his head tells him to keep going.

It’s probably the devil talking and this is horribly stupid, but his new band of friends is counting on him. He follows the voice and steps into the bushes. Woosung keeps going straight — crunching over leaves and branches, swatting away a pesky mosquito. The further he goes in, the less he can see the houses behind him. He should probably turn back; if he goes any deeper, there's a chance of getting lost, and he is not in the mood for that right now. But something catches him from the corner of his eye. It looks like metal. Something sturdy? He pushes forward a little more, brushing away tall bushes.

Right before him, he sees a large metal gate with the roof of house peeking over it. Curiosity beats caution, and he walks toward it. He pushes gently on the metal gate, flinching when it opens up with ease. Woosung peeks his head through.

There’s the house, made of brick and wood with thick vines growing alongside the walls. It seems abandoned, or he hopes at least. The front door’s ajar, which Woosung takes as an invitation to enter. “Hello?” He calls out into the emptiness. “Um, I’m coming in, okay? Just letting you know, if, uh, anyone is in here, I guess.” His footsteps echo in the hallway. There’s a stairway to his left, and a couple more doors to his right. In front of him are two oak doors with little windows that let him take a glance through. No one’s in there, nor is there any furniture except for one lone couch. There’s a huge window with a door right across the room, which Woosung assumes leads to a patio. He decides to head inside. The air is a little musty, and he sees piles of dust collecting all over the floor.

A bell rings in his head: they could practice here.

The room is spacious enough for all the band’s equipment, and if the house is as abandoned as it looks, then no one will mind them using the space for a while. Even better, they don’t have to worry about noise complaints since the house is far enough away from actual people.

It really _is_ perfect.

 

* * *

 

Woosung starts sprinting home like his life depends on it. His adrenaline is rushing through his veins like a waterfall; he’s so excited. He finally found a place! He has to tell the guys as soon as possible.

 

He whips out his phone, about to start typing in their contact names before it hits him: he doesn't have their phone numbers. Woosung's sneakers skid across the asphalt as he tries to stop himself. "Stupid! Your first group of actual friends and you don't even get their numbers?!" He shouts. A couple kids playing on a house lawn drop what they're doing to stare at him. Woosung laughs awkwardly, "Uh, sorry! Just continue playing!" He speed-walks his way out of the neighborhood.

 

♫♫♫

 

"Guys!" Woosung bursts through the roof door.

Dojoon comically stops mid-eating, a spoon hanging in the hair, mouth wide open. "Huh?"

Hajoon snickers. "You look like an idiot."

"Shut it; you know you love this face." Dojoon retorts. Jaehyeong quietly laughs at Hajoon's exaggerated gagging.

"Guys, focus! I finally have some good news." That catches everyone's attention. "Alright, circle up. Guess what I found yesterday while walking home?"

Hajoon is the first to pipe up. "You found a room?" Jaehyeong and Dojoon's eyes light up. 

"No way, you got one? Where is it? Let's start practicing tonight!" Dojoon looks about ready to burst at the seams with excitement.

"We have homework, dude, but don't worry we can start practicing this weekend. Hang in there for a couple more days." Dojoon pouts but agrees with Woosung.

"So where is this place?" Jaehyeong asks. The other two lean forward, curiosity peeking its head through.

"Just wait and see. I want it to be a surprise. Meet me in front of the school on Saturday at noon, and bring your instruments too!"

"You're not planning to kill us, are you?" Dojoon's remark causes everyone to laugh.

"Oh, by the way," Woosung remembers, "I need all your numbers."

 

* * *

 

He doesn't know how to feel when he sees Hajoon already waiting on the sidewalk, sitting patiently on his Meinl Headliner Cajon. "Hey! You got here so early. It's not even twelve yet."

The bookworm shrugs. "I had some time to kill." The two wait together for the others to arrive. Dojoon joins them slightly after Woosung.

"Wow, you're actually on time," Hajoon deadpans. Dojoon laughs, tussling his hair before sitting on the curb with Woosung.

"So now we just have Jaehyeong left."

"It'll be awhile, Woosung."

Dojoon looks up to Hajoon to ask him why. "You'll see when he gets here." They ruminate with what he said for about twenty more minutes. Woosung has noticed a couple times that Hajoon seems to know Jaehyeong more than him and Dojoon. He's about to ask what their history is when a car pulls up near them.

The back door opens, revealing Jaehyeong along with blasting pop music. He turns his head to say something to the other people in the car, but the group can't hear it over the radio. Eventually, he gets out with his bass in tow. The front window rolls down, revealing two girls — one in the driver's seat and one in the shotgun — who look older than Jaehyeong. "Have fun with your friends Jae!" The girl in shotgun yells out. Giggling is heard as the car drives off.

"Whoa, are those your older sisters?"  Dojoon asks. "How many do you have?"

Jaehyeong nods, embarrassment apparent on his face. "Three. My little sister was sitting in the back with me so you couldn't see her."

"Damn, what's that like?"

"It's...interesting." Woosung sees Hajoon smile out of the corner of his eye. "Anyway, sorry I'm late. Ready to practice?"

"Yeah!" Dojoon jumps up. "Lead the way, Woosung!" He takes the group down the same route from before, all the way to the dead end and stops before the forest.

"This is a dead end." Jaehyeong's confusion seeps through the statement.

"Sure is." Woosung steps through the underbrush and beckons the others with his hand. They walk past overgrown trees and push through bushes.

"Guys, I think I was right last time. Woosung is going to murder us in this forest where no one can hear us scream," Dojoon says. Woosung hits him with his elbow, grinning.

"Come on, we're almost there."

Once they arrive at their destination, Woosung lets the house gate do all the talking for him. "No way! This is it?" Dojoon exclaims. He runs over to the metal gate, quickly pushing his way inside. Woosung gestures to others. "After you!" Hajoon and Jaehyeong exchange wary looks before heading inside, Woosung following after closely. Dojoon has already gotten to the new practice room and made the dusty couch his new home. Hajoon tours around the perimeter of the room, while Jaehyeong keeps his feet firmly near the oak doors.

"Isn't it great? Nice and spacious, with good lighting too from the big windows!"

"We should decorate this place. I can bring some lights. My sisters have a lot of those ones that you can hang along the wall. They just need batteries to work." Jaehyeong offers.

"Oh! I'll bring posters!" Dojoon shouts out.

"I'll bring some wireless games," Hajoon chips in.

Woosung feels his smile to grow from ear to ear. "That's great, guys. This house is going to look amazing. It'll be like our own personal studio!"

Everyone cheers along in agreement.

"Now who's ready to practice?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finally, an update! Summer is here and I have more time to write. I had a hard time finishing this chapter sadly,, Writers block sucks. But thank you to everyone who patiently waited for this update! I hope you guys enjoy!!

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic ever! I’m excited to continue with this, especially with The Rose as the muse! 
> 
> Hope y’all enjoy the ride!


End file.
